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According to the International News Service, during a discussion before a game in 1919, Frank Baker was talking to his Yankees teammates about “the days when batters demanded the sort of delivery they could hit best.”

Babe Ruth

The players agreed:

“If that rule were in force in the present day the outfielders would have to be mounted on motorcycles, and Muddy Ruel said that the playing field would have to be as big as the parade grounds at old Camp Pike, where he was at officers training camp.

Just imagine Babe Ruth coming up with the bases filled and a hit needed if he had the privilege of demanding a fastball waist high. The question of how to pitch to him under such conditions was placed in open discussion. Ping Bodie solved it. ‘I’d get back on second base, throw the ball and then duck,’ said Ping.”

Negotiating with Murphy

When it was first rumored that Fred Mitchell would step down as president of the Chicago Cubs in the summer of 1919, there was speculation that Charles Webb Murphy might return to the club as president (Bill Veeck Sr. was ultimately given the position)

Hearing word of Murphy’s possible return, Johnny Evers told The Sporting News what it was like to negotiate a contract with Murphy after the team’s back to back World Series wins in 1907 and 1908:

Charles Webb Murphy

“We had made lots of money for the Cubs and certainly expected owner Murphy to give us a big boost in salary. I received my contract, gave it the once over and returned it to C.W. with the curt reply that I thought I deserved more money for my labors.

“It was not a big salary, In fact, the sum mentioned was so small that if I were to tell you the amount it would shock you. Mr. Murphy was shrewd enough to get around my request for a raise. His reply was to the effect that I might deserve more money, but should be satisfied to work for the amount he mentioned in view of the fact that I had such wonderful stars to help me as Frank Chance on my left and Joe Tinker on my right.

“Joe Tinker also protested against the figures mentioned in his contract that year and the crafty Mr. Murphy’s reply to him was that he should be satisfied to play for almost anything since he was teamed up with such stars as (Harry) Steinfeldt on his right, Evers on his left and Frank Chance at first base. There was no way to get around an argument like that, and when the season opened Tinker and I were playing at the original figures offered by chubby Charley.”

Arguing with Browning

The Louisville Courier-Journal recalled in 1908 an incident “When Pete Browning played with the Louisville club.”

Browning, said the paper, was “no prize beauty…still he was sensitive regarding his un-Apollo like appearance and would get angry in a moment if any allusion was made to his lack of pulchritude.”

Pete Browning

During a game in Cincinnati, umpire John Gaffney called Browning out on strikes.

“The big fellow rushed up the umpire roaring like a toreador stuck bull. But John Gaffney was afraid of no living man, and he ruled the field with a rod of iron, but he was also a reasonable man and would explain his decisions. However, Pete would listen to no explanations. Finally, Gaffney became angry, and walking up to Browning, he shook his finger in his face and said:

“’I would like to have a photograph of your face, Browning.’

“’And for why,’ shot back Pete, who was taken wholly by surprise, and began to color up when allusion was made to his face.

“’Why, I have a chicken farm back home,’ said Gaffney, ‘and I would like to put your picture in the coop so as to frighten eggs out of the hens.’”

The Chicago White Stockings arrived in Detroit on the evening of June 18, 1886 with a mission. The Detroit Wolverines had won their first 18 home games, and threatened the record of 21 set by Chicago eight seasons earlier.

The Chicago Tribune said on the morning of the game a delegation of nearly 200 Chicago fans, led by team President Albert Spalding, arrived by train. The Chicago Tribune said:

“Out of the car doors piled the delegation from the windy city, each man bearing a new broom with a placard strapped across the straw end announcing the arrival of the ‘Record Breakers.’”

The Chicago players, along with team mascot Willie Hahn, met the group at the train:

“(T)he Chicago players and their mascot marched down the platform and placed themselves at the head of the double column of visiting Chicagoans that had formed at the depot, and then with their brooms elevated, the delegation marched out of the depot…The odd looking procession, extending nearly two squares, attracted a vast amount of attention.”

The delegation marched to the team’s hotel, the Russell House, until it was time to leave for Detroit’s Recreation Park at 3 PM.

With Hahn, and the players again in the lead, the delegation marched to the ballpark.

The Chicago Inter Ocean described the team’s arrival:

“The Chicagos were escorted to the ground by a band, and entered the field behind little Willie Hahn, who carried an immense broom on which were the words ‘Our Mascot.’”

Willie Hahn

Not to be outdone, the Wolverines had quickly recruited their own mascot for the game. The Inter Ocean said:

“The Detroits entered the grounds behind a little fellow almost the same size of Willie Hahn, and were received with cheer after cheer.”

The Wolverines mascot was “young Charlie Gallagher,” a local boy “said to have been born with teeth, and is guaranteed to posses all the magic charms of a genuine mascot.”

“Not a run to either side did the sixth, seventh, or eighth innings yield. The Whites did not once get further than second in these three innings. (Sam) Crane and (Charlie) Bennett for the home team alone reached third.

“Now (in the eighth inning) came the misfortune to which many a Detroiter attributes the defeat of their team. Bennett had caught his usually brilliant game without an error…(Fred) Pfeffer was at bat and struck one of those wicked fouls that have so often proved terrors to catchers. The ball caught the crack catcher upon the tip of the middle finger of his right hand, and almost tore it from the joint. Bennett bore the pain like a man, tried to brace up and go on, but he soon saw the folly of such an undertaking and withdrew.”

Shortstop Jack Rowe moved behind the plate to replace Bennett, and the following inning, with a runner on second and no out, a foul off the bat of George Gore struck Rowe’s finger ”jerking the member out of joint, besides splitting it badly.”

Detroit then tried to stall in order to have the game called on account of darkness

“(Charlie) Ganzel, the Detroits’ remaining catcher, was then sent for. A long delay followed. The delay was so long that the Chicago players began to kick vigorously. ‘The man will not put on his uniform,’ said (Cap) Anson to (Umpire John) Gaffney.”

Ganzel finally took the field “after twenty-five minutes’ delay.” Gore singled, moving McCormick to third, then Ganzel allowed a passed ball, and Chicago won 5 to 4.

“The scene that followed can scarcely be described, and the delight of the Chicago delegation bordered upon wildness, and was in strong contrast to the blue faces of the great crowd of Detroiters that filed out of the grounds. Brooms were waved with increased enthusiasm by the Chicago contingent on the road back to the hotel.”

Detroit won the two remaining games in the series and increased their lead over the second place White Stockings to three and a half games. They stayed in first place until August 26—Chicago took over the league lead and never relinquished it, winning the National League pennant by two and half games.

Hahn remained the White Stockings mascot until 1888. Charlie Gallagher was never heard from again.

In 1905, Elmer Ellsworth Bates of The Cleveland Press told a story about how the game had changed over the past two decades.

Ellsworth said that during the 1880s he witnessed an incident at the Café in Cleveland’s Weddell House Hotel involving Mike “King” Kelly. Bates said he was with umpire “Honest John” Gaffney when Kelly came in:

Mike “King” Kelly

“(T)he swing doors flew open and about half of the players of the Chicago team—Kelly in the lead—marched in. The game between Cleveland and Chicago that day had been a stormy one, and Gaffney had assessed fines right and left.

“Kelly had been the chief offender. Drawing at first a $5 penalty for disputing a decision, he had called Gaffney names at $5 or $10 a name until he owed the National League $50. Kelly had left the ballpark vowing he would attend to Gaffney later. I expected trouble when Kelly came in, for it wasn’t his first visit to that part of the hotel that night.

“’Hello, Gaf,’ Mike shouted, as he saw the umpire. ‘Have a drink—you and your handsome friend.’

“’Much obliged Kel’ said Gaffney: ‘I’m not drinking today.’

“’Say Gaf,’ Kelly went on, ‘how much did you soak me today.’

“’An even $50,’ replied Gaffney, very quietly.

John Gaffney

“’Reported it to the boss yet?’

“Not yet,’ was the reply.

“’Tell you what I’ll do,’ said Kelly, grabbing up the dice box. I’ll shake you to see whether it’s $100 or nothing.’

“Gaffney started to walk away.

“’Come on, Gaf, be game,’ the other players called.

“So he came back.

“’Horses?’ asked Gaffney.

“Nope,’ said Kelly. ‘One throw.’

“Gaffney spilled out aces and fours. Kelly turned the box bottom side up, and, lifting it again, disclosed three fives.

“All right,’ said Gaffney, ‘the fine don’t go.’

“’Come on there, fellers,’ shouted Kel, starting for the door, ‘let’s go out and spend that $50.’”

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The Philadelphia Athletics were in second place, two games behind the St. Louis Browns in the American association pennant race in June of 1889; but The Philadelphia Times said the team was underachieving, and blamed it on drinking:

“It is a matter of notorious publicity that a portion of the best players on the Athletic Base Ball Club are not living up to their contracts. They drink, carouse and make exhibitions of drunkenness that are disgusting the people who so liberally contribute to the support of the national game, and unless the management put an immediate stop to such proceedings the club will be certain to finish the season with a balance on the wrong side of the ledger.”

The paper said because it was “unjust to criticize the club as a whole” they would name the guilty parties:

The Times singled out Welch, who was out of the lineup because Sharsig said he was ill:

“Sick he may be, and those who saw him in company with Lyons last Tuesday morning at the early hour of 3 O’clock wonder that he is not laid up. That model pair were sitting on the curbstone on the South Penn Square side of the City Hall, hilariously and shockingly drunk.

“Saloon-keeper Irwin, who keeps on Juniper Street, told a friend that Welch and another ballplayer became so vulgarly and obscenely boisterous in his place on Monday night that he had to order them out.”

Curt Welch

The Times said the Athletics loss on June 16—they were defeated 9 to 5 by the Browns—“was largely due to errors made by Welch, Stovey, Larkin and Lyons, all of whom showed traces of their Saturday night’s outing.”

The team’s activities were not limited to Philadelphia, from “every city on the circuit came stories of debauches and sprees,” involving the Athletics:

“Chris von der Ahe, of the champion Browns, is responsible for the statement that on the last trip made by the Athletics to St. Louis six of the players became so drunk and noisy in the big Anheuser-Busch saloon that the proprietor had to have then ejected, and a ballplayer on another club that chanced to meet the Athletics in East St. Louis said yesterday that he never saw so many drunken men on one team and that their unseemly conduct was the subject of general talk around the depot. From Baltimore and Brooklyn come well authenticated stories of boisterous sprees and hilarious conduct in public places.”

The Times said even the most famous umpire of the era, “Honest John” Gaffney, “whom a ballplayer has no truer friend,” commented on the state of the Athletics:

“He says that he has repeatedly seen some of them come up to bat so drunk that they could hardly stand.”

John Gaffney

The paper said Sharsig, “an exceedingly clever gentleman,” had completely lost control of the team:

“The ballplayers all like him and avow their willingness to do for him whatever he asks, but he is apparently unable to keep them sober even at home and when away they are absolutely beyond his control. He does not believe in imposing fines…Stovey, Welch and Larkin know that it would be hard to fill their places and laugh at threatened dismissal.”

The Athletics lost six straight games after the story appeared, and 16 of their next 22. They ended the season in third place with a record of 75-58.

Manager Bill Sharsig

Mattimore was released in August. Larkin, Bierbauer and Stovey jumped to the Players League after the season ended, and Fennelly was sold to the Brooklyn Gladiators.

Sharsig’s 1890 team led the American Association until July 17, then faded badly and finished in eighth place. There was no mention in the Philadelphia press about whether drunkenness contributed to the 1890 collapse.